


Falling

by wolfy_writing



Category: Invaders (Marvel), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Namor the Sub-Mariner (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfy_writing/pseuds/wolfy_writing
Summary: Chapter 1 is set during Squadron Supreme #15, and Chapter 2 is set before The Invaders (2019)





	1. Heights

Jim flew up as high into the sky as he could, so high that his radiation couldn’t hurt anyone.

He looked around. He was alone.  Well, nearly alone.

He could see a shape moving in the distance.

As it flew closer, it resolved itself into the shape of a man.

“Stop!”, yelled Jim. “Stay back!”

The figure kept flying closer.

Jim stared and focused his eyes. “ _Namor_?”

“Are you okay?” Namor asked. “Do you need any help?”

Jim, for reasons he couldn’t entirely understand, started laughing wildly. “ _You’re_ asking _me_? You were _dead_ this morning!”

“Yes, but I'm fine now. I want to make sure you're okay.” Namor hovered a modest distance away, closer than Jim would have liked. (Namor was resistant to radiation, Jim knew, but _how_ resistant? Was that far enough? Was he _safe_? Did he come back from the dead only for Jim to kill him with cancer? How much radiation was Jim _giving off_? What if his powers flared uncontrollably? Would _Namor_ be _safe_?)

“I can’t get my powers under control,” said Jim. “There’s so much radiation and I can’t stop it! I’m dangerous to be around!”

Namor hovered in place. “Are you hurt? Do you feel okay? Is the radiation causing you any harm? You aren’t going to collapse again, are you?” He sounded worried.

 _Namor_ , who'd been assassinated on international news, sounded worried about _Jim_. It was nearly enough to set Jim off laughing hysterically again.

“A SHIELD tech might help,” said Namor. “But I don’t want to go find someone unless I'm sure you're okay. If you fall, and I’m not here...I wouldn’t want to face the consequences.”

“You’re here to _catch_ me?”

“Of course,” said Namor, like it was the most natural thing in the world to come back from the dead in case Jim was in danger.  

Back when Jim was created, he’d nearly ended up permanently encased in concrete because he was just a defective machine. And now _kings_ were _coming back from the dead_ to keep him from getting hurt.

“Don’t touch me,” Jim said. “I’m radioactive. I could hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” said Namor, flying a little closer. “You’re going to get your radiation under control.” He flew a bit closer.

“Namor, what are you doing?” Jim flew back.

“I’m moving closer,” said Namor. “Because I trust you. I trust that, whatever was done to you, you’re going to get yourself under control. You won’t hurt me.” He flew a little closer.

“What if you’re wrong?” Jim asked.

“Then I die,” said Namor. “I’ve died for worse causes than helping you. But I won’t. I know how strong you are. I know you’re a good man. I know that, when someone else needs it, you will get yourself under control.”

“Stay back please! I don’t want to kill you!”

Namor stopped, but didn’t move back. “You won’t.”

Jim tried to get ahold of his radiation, the internal mechanism that was causing it to ramp up. It was slippery, and kept sliding free.

Then he felt something catch.

His radiation levels started to fall.

“Hold on,” he said. “I think I have it, but give it a moment.”

Namor nodded.

“How are you back?” Jim asked.

“Time travel. The Squadron Supreme regretted their actions, so they returned to the moment of my death and we entered a negotiation.” Namor smiled. “They're not bad kids.  I feel like, under different circumstances, we'd get along well.”

“God, when they cut your head off, I thought you were gone for good!” Jim shook his head. “It’s been _weeks_! Never do that to me again!”

Namor opened his mouth, then closed it and took a breath. “I’ll do my best. How are you feelings?”

“Safer,” said Jim. The radiation was falling.

“Do you feel steady? Is your flight okay? Your flame?”

“I can’t find my flame,” said Jim. “But I don’t feel like I’m going to fall. I can sort that out later.”

“If that bird-costumed fool harmed you…”

“Again,” said Jim, “They _killed_ you.”

“This is different,” said Namor. “You’re an innocent.”

“Not that innocent,” said Jim. He’d killed, and he hadn’t always regretted it. He’d made ugly choices, and some had turned out to be wrong.

“Compared to most of us,” said Namor. “I know you’re far more innocent than I am.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Subby.”

Namor shrugged. “I know what I am. I am a king, and that is an awesome and monstrous thing to be. You, Jim Hammond, are a hero. I am the greatest man I know, but you are the _best_ man I know.” He held out a hand. “How are you feeling?”

Jim checked his radiation. It had dropped, but had it dropped enough? Could he trust himself?

Namor was strong, and not easily hurt. Right now, it was an incredible mercy to have a friend like that.

Jim reached out and took Namor’s hand, then pulled him into a hug.

Namor let himself be hugged. Slowly, his arms slid around Jim.

Jim buried his face in Namor’s shoulder. Namor smelled like sweat, and the wind coming over the sea, and a bit like that coconut oil stuff he used on his hair. His skin felt damp, and slightly cool to the touch, with rock-hard muscles under the skin.

Jim found himself feeling the skin around Namor’s neck, and the tendons underneath, as if he'd be able to find a trace of the cut where Namor's head had been sliced off.

He picked up his head and looked at Namor.

Namor leaned forward until his forehead touched Jim’s. “It’s me, Glowbug,” he said. “I’m here.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Water Rat.”

“When you need me, I’ll come for you. I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall.”


	2. Depths

After he’d agreed to stay in Atlantis, Jim had fallen into the habit of pacing at night. The palace had a low-grade hum of activity at all hours, and walking was better than sitting around a bedroom and pretending to sleep.

Jim wasn’t sure when he’d taken to pacing outside of Namor’s bedroom. He hadn’t consciously formed the intent. But he’d fallen into the habit just the same, and once again, he was outside Namor’s door.

Listening.

It was, in local time, around three in the morning. Namor should, in theory, be sleeping soundly.

But, once again, there was muttering. And the sound of tossing and turning. And then Namor called out, “Tommy!” And then a gasp.

Then there was a moment of quiet, and Jim paused, waiting, hoping he would hear the sound of Namor rolling over and going back to sleep.

Instead, he heard the sound of Namor’s voice.

A one-sided conversation, Namor pausing as if to leave gaps for a second party who wasn't there.

Again.

Jim glanced at the royal guards outside the door. “Do you hear that?”

The guards stared ahead blankly.

“Is someone in there? Who’s he talking to?”

Again, no response.

Jim stepped towards the door. “I should check in on him.”

One guard stepped in front of Jim.  “No one interrupts the king in his bedroom unless there are explosions or screaming.”

The other guard nodded. “Even then, it depends on the kind of scream.” He smirked.

Jim heard Namor say the name “Machan”, which sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

But the only person in that conversation was Namor.

—

“Namor, can I talk to you?”

Namor looked up from breakfast. “I’m very busy.”

“It’s important,” said Jim. “I need to talk to you in private.”  He looked at Namor.  "Please."

Namor looked at Jim, then nodded, and set down his breakfast.

—

“Who are you talking to in your room at night?” Jim asked.

Namor’s eyes narrowed. Then he put on the smile that had dropped the panties of several enthusiastic French women back in the Second World War. “Jealous? Jim, if you want to spend the night in my bedroom…”

“There isn’t anyone else there,” said Jim. “I would have heard them.”

There was a flash of something in Namor’s face that Jim couldn’t quite read, then icy calm. “Communication device. My advisor, Machan, was on the other end. It’s like surface-world Bluetooth earpiece, except _some_ civilizations know how to keep our technology functioning when it’s wet.”

“You have nightmares,” said Jim. “I can tell. Sometimes you yell in your sleep. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night.”

Namor tensed.  “If you have nothing better to do than eavesdrop,” he said, “you may want to go back to the surface world. I’m sure you could come up with some better uses for your time up there.”

“I’m worried about you, Water Rat.”

“I’m fine,” said Namor. “More than fine. I’m in my element. Literally.” He gestured expansively. “In the ocean, I’m strong enough for anything.” There was a slight pause. “Strong enough to do whatever needs to be done.”

“What?” Jim asked. “What needs to be done?”

“Protecting my kingdom, of course.” Namor smiled again.

That wasn’t good. Namor didn’t smile this much in conversation unless he was trying to pull something.

“Look, I’m asking because...”

“You clearly have too much time on your hands. It’s been pleasant having you visit, Jim, but I’m sure your cats miss you.” Namor put a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “I’ll arrange a transportation bubble to take you back up to the surface.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on!”

“You’re not leaving?” Namor glared. “I’m being _very_ patient with you, because we’re old friends. But I _am_ the king of Atlantis. You can agree to leave and we part on good terms, or you can be stubborn and I can have you escorted to the surface world.”

"Namor, _please_!"

"You've used that once already," said Namor.  "I can't give you everything you ask." He turned away. “I have no more time to spend on this conversation. Let me know when you’ve packed.”

“Namor!” Jim reached out, but Namor was swimming away. And Namor could out-swim a sailfish if he wanted to, so there was no catching up to him in the water.

_I will always be here to catch you when you fall._

Jim shook his head. “But who, Water Rat, will catch you?”


End file.
